More to Life than School
by SuicidalToeSocks
Summary: "Give me a week to change your mind. If on Friday you aren't even willing to accept a date out of pity, you can go back to being your normal, academic self." Brawly strikes a deal with Roxanne, and if the surfing doesn't kill her, the Mario Kart will.
1. The Bet

A paper ball sailed across the room and his Roxanne square in the temple. Her pen stopped in a deathly-silent pause. She slowly took her gaze off her notebook and glared at the offending piece of paper, wondering who on earth would dare interrupt her in her note-taking trance?

But, of course, she already knew the answer. She just didn't want to come to terms with it.

Three seats away and two rows back, Brawly was leaning over the edge of his desk, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Roxanne and the paper ball, silently egging her on to do it, to pick it up and open it. He saw her look at it out of the corner of her eye, and he knew she had taken notice of it when her pen stopped scratching on the surface of her paper. She _knew_ it was there, and he knew she knew it was there, and she knew he knew she had seen it. So what did she do?

She kicked it off in some other direction. Of course. When it hit the ankle of one of the girls in class, she looked at it curiously and reached down to pick it up. Brawly was clenching his fists on the edge of his desk, frustrated at both Roxanne for kicking his note away and even more frustrated at himself for signing it with his name. The girl five rows ahead of him barely contained her squeal of joy, turned bright pink, gave him an excited look, then proceeded to lean over to her friend and show it to her. Which made the other girl almost shriek with joy, glance back at Brawly, then proceed to giggle madly with her friend until the teacher asked what was going on and could they please stop disrupting class.

_That's the fourth note mishap this week_, Brawly thought. _You'd think she'd just give and just accept a date by now!_ But no, Roxanne remained stubbornly out of his reach, burying herself in her schoolwork and spending her nights and weekends studying. Maybe that's _why_ Brawly was so attracted to her? She was so devoted to something that she would block out everything else around her, and he wanted to be the one to knock down that wall. Or maybe it was because she was the only girl _not_ fawning over him in the school and he liked the challenge? Or maybe it was because she was very pretty and seemed to not even take notice of this fact? Or maybe it was a combination of all of these things. Regardless how much he liked Roxanne though, he was now stuck going on a movie date with Giggle Girl at the front of the room. Oh joy.

Roxanne was finding it hard to continue taking notes now that she knew Brawly's eyes were continuously staring at the back of her neck as she bent over her paper. Still, she pressed onward. Wasn't that the fourth note he'd flung her way that week alone? She was getting extremely annoyed at him for it, as he always picked the worst times to do so. Like in the middle of note-taking, for example. Or in the middle of a test. Or in the middle of lunch. Or in the middle of her reading a book as she walked to the school's front doors at the end of the day. Actually, _any_ time was a bad time for her. She was always busy, always doing something. Or, at any rate, always doing something related to schoolwork. After all, there were four years until she could graduate Gym Leader school, and she needed all the studying she could if she wanted to pass with perfect grades and be the best gym leader she could be! Four, short years until she could begin her studying for a college degree on the side of her Leading license! And she couldn't have those years interrupted with petty dates with an arrogant boy who thought he was Rayquaza's gift to sports.

And yet, she still couldn't concentrate. He _was_ the only guy to ask her on a date in a year or so, and he was _also_ the only one who wouldn't seem to give up when she rejected him, paper ball after flung paper ball. Something about that was very curious. Roxanne became so lost in her conflicting thoughts that she didn't realize the bell had rang for lunch until everyone around her began to stand up, lunch bags in hand, and head for the door in one mass. Hurriedly, she carefully packed up her notes and pulled out her sack lunch – a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of carrots, and an apple – and the book she was currently reading.

Two hands slapped down on her desktop and caused her to jump. Brawly was leaning over her, eyebrows knit together, jaw set. "Why didn't you open my note? Now I have to go on a date with the Giggle Girl!" He frowned. "Oh Rayquaza, what if she wants to hold hands? What if she expects me to _kiss_ her?" He made a face and stuck out his tongue. Roxanne didn't even flinch.

"You always have the option of taking it back, you know. Tell her 'I'm sorry, that note wasn't intended for you, so no date' or 'I made a mistake and I don't want to go out with you.' It would save your reputation from becoming Jerk Jock to Manwhore, going on his fourth date this week." Roxanne picked up her lunch and book and headed to the door, avoiding eye contact. But Brawly followed her like an obedient Poochyena.

"But that would be rude, and I would hate to break the poor girl's heart. If you had taken your nose out of your notebook, you would have seen that I practically made her life complete when she got that note that was intended for you." He fell into step beside her and they made their way down the now-emptied halls toward the lunch room and outdoor patio. She still refused to look his way.

"But that would be the truth, and going on a date with her would be a lie. And I'm sorry, but I don't date liars." She quickened her pace in hopes of deterring him, but Brawly was either too dense to get the hint, or he was too stubborn to give her the satisfaction. Either way, he stayed with her stride for stride. She hoped it was only in her mind that they didn't seem to be any closer to the cafeteria doors than before.

"And you know, if I had told you I'd go with your option, you would tell me you don't date heartless jerks with no regard to the feelings of the girl he's with." She saw him fold his arms and look down at her, but she continued to stare straight ahead of her. One of those "Maybe-If-I-Pretend-Like-I-Don't-See-Him-He'll-Go-Away" kind of deals. "I just can't win with you, can I?"

"No, you can't." Roxanne turned to him, lips pursed, eyebrows together. "And even if you had managed to find a way around that, you're still continuing to bother me against my wishes, something that doesn't score you any brownie points with my good side."

"But if I ignore you or leave you alone, then you would have no interest anyway and I still wouldn't get anywhere!" He protested. She put a finger to her lip in mock thought.

"Oh gee, what a crazy idea, I never even thought of that!" She frowned at him, dropping her hand to her side, and glared. "Looks like you're stuck between a Nosepass and a hard place, Brawly, and there's no way out. You ought to give up before you end up looking like a complete moron with no life other than pursuing unobtainable girls!" And on that note, Roxanne turned on her heel and stalked toward the lunch room, her regulation uniform skirt swishing along behind her. Brawly just watched her go, his stubborn flame turning into a full-blown inferno inside him. She wanted to play this game, fine. But Brawly was good at games.

* * *

One very horrible date with Giggle Girl later, Brawly was in the process of writing up another note to Roxanne in class and this time, remembering to _not_ signing his name, when he thought better of it. Instead, he took out his own notebook and pencil and began writing down notes like every other normal person in the classroom. The usual time he tossed his paper-ball note at Roxanne came and passed, and he resisted the urge to smile smugly when he saw her, out of the corner of her eye, turn around and glance curiously in his direction. He desperately wanted to see her reaction to him taking notes, but he tried to look as casual about it as possible, as if he did this sort of thing every day. But it was becoming increasingly harder to ignore her around the seventh time she turned to glance at him. Still, he kept himself focused. He needed her to be a little off her mark come lunch time.

He was going to discuss the rules of this game with her. Even if she thought she did, there was no way she was holding all the cards. In order for there to be any game, they had to each take part, and Brawly, simply because he had refused to give up when she told him to, still had cards of his own. And Brawly wasn't about to throw away his hand if he could find a trump card among them. _Watch out Roxanne_, he thought, _you're playing against Brawly now_.

The bell rang for lunch and he nearly knocked his desk over in his excitement, which caused him to gain a few odd stares, but he didn't really care. As everyone made their way out of the classroom, Brawly walked over and smacked his palms to Roxanne's desk like the day before, but this time, he wasn't annoyed with her. Quite the contrary, he had a competitive glint in his eye that she wasn't too sure she liked seeing or not.

"I have a bone to pick with you," he said.

"I have a lunch to eat _without_ you," she replied. She tried to get up, but Brawly sidestepped in front of her. She tried the other way, but he sidestepped again, arms folded, and that same look in his eye. His smirk was starting to get on her nerves. She had no idea how girls found this boy attractive. That smirk was wearing on her nerves fast, and he usually wore it when talking to girls. Actually, scratch the "talking" part out and insert "flirting." Finally, she let out a huffy breath. "Fine, what do you want?"

"I want to know why you won't say yes. What's so horrible about me that you won't go out with me? Or any guy, for that matter? If you're a lesbian, just say so."

Roxanne gave him a punch to the shoulder and surprisingly, Brawly discovered, it wasn't a bad one. "I'm not a lesbian! I just think dates are stupid is all!" She shoved him out of the way and headed toward the door. "Does that answer your question?"

"Not in the slightest." He caught up with her and fell in step. "So you don't like girls, but you don't like dates. You can still have a boyfriend without having any dates, so why don't you have a boyfriend? It's not like you're ugly by any means, I'm sure you could get one if you tried."

She glared up at him and walked faster, her feet stomping particularly hard on the tile floor on the way to the cafeteria. "Having a boyfriend means you have to split your attention, and I only have four more years until I graduate and become a gym leader, so I need to have all my focus on my schoolwork. I can't afford to be dating anyone, even if I wanted to, which I don't." She directed that last part at him, he could tell. "School and studying comes first. And after I graduate, I plan on getting a side degree so I can continue working after I am replaced as a gym leader. I have too much to plan for in the future."

"But there's so much more to life than school!" Brawly exclaimed. Roxanne looked at him as if he'd just proposed that she become a fast food employee. "I mean, I'm not knocking studying, but how are you ever going to have fun if all you do is study?"

"I think math homework is _very_ fun, thank you very much!" Roxanne retorted. "There's always the excitement of a new challenge, and they make math games that help you improve your skills. And there are always games like Sudoku."

"Roxanne," Brawly stopped in the middle of the hallway, and surprisingly, Roxanne did the same. They faced each other. "Math homework is _not_ fun. I mean, think about it. Don't you need to learn at least a _little_ social interaction with people in order to be a good gym leader?" Roxanne opened her mouth to protest, but Brawly kept going. "And if you plan on getting a side major _while_ you're a gym leader, how would you balance your time? Would your schoolwork still take precedence?"

"Well, of course not–"

"So then why are you letting it take such precedence now? Because if you let it run your life now, you'll let it run your life later."

Roxanne was actually at a loss of what to say. Brawly didn't have that smirk anymore, she noticed. He looked entirely serious now, completely passionate about what he had just said. And, against her will, Roxanne was seeing some sense in what he'd just lectured her about. Something in her mind screamed at that and tried to replace his words with sense, but her reasoning was blocking the way.

"Give me a week to change your mind. No dates, just hanging out. If, on Friday after school, you aren't willing to accept a date, even out of pity, I'll let you go back to being your normal, academic self. Deal?" He stuck out his hand and held it there between them. She looked at it cautiously for a moment, then back up at him.

"If my grades slip, even for a moment–"

"I personally doubt you'll have any problem with that, but if you have any reason to worry, I'll give you as much time as you need to catch up to where you'll feel better." He bounced his hand in front of her again and raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

Roxanne felt all sorts of doubt and caution and worry start to rise in her stomach, but she quickly stuck out her own hand to shake before she could second-guess herself and put her hand in Brawly's. All of that doubt and caution and worry that had started to rise in her stomach? It increased tenfold when it should have been eased. Brawly nodded as if that sealed the deal and smiled. Not an all-knowing smirk, but a smile. "Great, we'll start tomorrow. No backing down, now!" And with those as his final words of parting, he bounced off to the cafeteria.

Roxanne stood in place for a little bit, going over what had just happened in her mind and felt more and more like someone had punched her in the stomach. However, her final thought, after watching the lunch room doors swing shut behind Brawly, was that tomorrow was Saturday.

**A/N: And to think this was originally going to be a oneshot. Ha.**


	2. Day 1, Technically

Roxanne awoke to something hitting the window of her bedroom. Something that sounded like a tree branch, except that there were no trees growing around her second-story apartment home. She rolled over and checked the clock, and found it half past midnight.

There was another tap at her window.

Roxanne froze for a moment, going over her options. She could pretend to ignore the noise and go back to sleep, she could check the window and find out what (or who,) was making the noise and why, or she could run down the hall to her parents' room and tell them there was some creepy person throwing things at her window. And as nice as options one and three sounded, there was no way she could possibly go back to sleep afterward, the curiosity would have been too great. So, somewhat reluctantly and certainly against her better judgment, Roxanne pushed back her drapes, opened her window, and leaned out over the sill.

Down below, tossing a rock up and down in his hand, Brawly smirked up at her. He was bathed in bluish moonlight and, she noticed, not wearing a shirt. _Why_ was he not wearing a shirt?

"Yo Roxanne!" He broke into a large grin. "Fancy a stroll?"

She gritted her teeth. He _would_ be the one throwing rocks at her window, wouldn't he? Why hadn't she just ignored her curiosity and just fallen back asleep? "No, Brawly. I would not 'fancy a stroll' with you. It's twelve thirty! What are you even doing up at this hour?"

"You mean, what are _you_ doing asleep?" he corrected her. "Normal people don't go to bed at nine on a Friday night, they go out and do stuff!" He tossed the rock in his hand off to the side and gestured to her. "So, come down here and do stuff!"

"I will _not_, Brawly!" she replied. "Besides, what am I going to do? Sneak out? My parents would kill me if they found out!"

"So don't let them find out," he shrugged. "Besides, you made that deal with me, remember?"

"I made a deal and you said you would start _tomorrow_!" she hissed. "The sun isn't even up yet!"

He shook his head in such a condescending way that Roxanne almost went down there to give him a piece of her mind right then. "Roxanne, Roxanne. I thought, for someone like you, that you'd be a little smarter! If it's twelve-thirty, the day's already changed! So it _is_ tomorrow already, silly."

She opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He was right! She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again when he raised a finger to stop her. She bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into? _Now_ what was she supposed to do? Brawly beckoned her down with one pointer finger and she heaved a sigh and pulled back into her room, but not before she gave him her dirtiest look possible. She quickly changed into a pair of red shorts and a white t-shirt and, as quietly as she could manage, Roxanne tiptoed out into the hall. Every squeaky floorboard sounded like a gunshot. Every swish of her clothing could have doubled as a rowdy outburst of laughter. Or, at least, it all seemed that way to her. And despite her heart already thumping madly at her sneaking around, she nearly had a heart attack when her front door creaked when it opened just a crack. Had it ever creaked like that before, or was it karma coming back to bite her in the ass for listening to a stubborn jock?

And yet, she thought, as she shut the door behind her, what he'd said to her at school had been more than just a challenge. She'd seen it in his eyes. Like he was genuinely concerned about her, not like he was reciting a rehearsed argument. And maybe it was his sudden jolt of sincerity that made her agree to this madness. But when she stepped out the door of her apartment and saw him standing there, smirking, all of her nice thoughts seemed to disappear. _He's an arrogant _jerk, she thought, _and that's all he'll ever be_.

"So, you ready for a fun night on the town?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye. She rolled hers.

"No, I'm paranoid that I'll be caught any second," she replied. "What do you even plan on doing, anyway? We can't do anything, we're minors! And I don't care _what_ I agreed to, I will _not_ be partaking in any illegal activities!"

Brawly laughed and nudged her with his elbow. It was a big, deep laugh, and very warm. It made Roxanne shiver. "Hey, who do you take me for? I'm not a bad kid!" he said. She rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Could have fooled me with this sneaking out business." Aloud though, she said,

"So what are you even going to make me do anyway? And why, may I ask, are you not wearing a shirt?"

"I'm not going to _make_ you do anything, Miss Bookworm," he replied. She bristled at the nickname. "But I'm not wearing a shirt because I was surfing earlier, just before I came to get you. And it's such a nice night, I'd hate to waste it wearing a shirt when I could wear a nice breeze instead. You should try it sometime." Roxanne's face set into some sort of frozen, disgusted expression. Was that his version of an invitation? Her insides cringed.

"So... you surf, huh?"

"It was a joke, Roxanne! A joke!" Brawly was doing his best to deter her thoughts as soon as he noticed her expression. "That's what friends do, they joke around with each other about dumb stuff like that! It's fun!"

"I hardly think so," she answered. He got the sincere impression that her nose would be in the air if she actually did that sort of thing. "I find stimulating conversation to be much more fun than vulgar jokes."

"You, Roxanne, are the biggest stick-in-the-mud I have ever met."

"Then why do you insist on _not_ leaving me alone?" she cried, exasperated. He pressed her lips together with one finger and made a gesture to the other houses around them, all of which had their lights turned out.

"Keep it down, we're still around where people can wake up and get us in trouble." He didn't sound angry, or even annoyed. Amused was probably the proper term to describe him right now, which made Roxanne all the more miffed. He didn't even have the proper sense to get mad at her for nearly blowing his juvenile habit of sneaking out! He removed his finger, but jogged a little ways out to the end of the street where the houses thinned and the beach could just be seen in the distance. "Come on, we're almost there!"

"We were actually going to do something?" she muttered to herself before running to catch up. Or rather, attempted running. Good schoolgirls didn't have _time_ to be athletically apt, they were too busy studying. Roxanne's running looked kind of like someone with a gimp leg trotting along, her arms swinging with a girly limp wrist. Brawly chose not to say anything, instead holding in his laughter and jogging the rest of the way out to the sand, stopping to take a deep breath and soak in the moonlight. The weather was mild, the wind was warm, and the water was perfect for surfing. Roxanne pulled up behind him, trying to hold in her gasps for breath.

_Well_, Brawly thought, _I guess that fills _her_ physical activity quota for the week_.

"What," she puffed between breaths, "are we," she put her hands on her knees and took a couple deep breaths, "doing at the beach?"

Brawly gave her a sly sideways look and gestured toward his surfboard, which was sticking straight up out of the sand a little ways off. "_I'm_ going to surf, and you're more than welcome to come along if you want."

"I'm not wearing a suit!" Roxanne protested. "And neither are you! And besides, I've never surfed before..."

"Who needs a suit?" Brawly pulled the board out of the sand and gestured for her to join him. "And you don't need to go by yourself, you're definitely light enough to ride on my board with me, you know."

For one horrifying moment, Roxanne actually considered it. She considered taking off her shoes, leaving them in the sand, and joining him out in the water and surfing around, regardless of her clothes getting wet. She pulled herself together quickly though, before she could convince herself that what Brawly had suggested sounded plausible.

"No! That's a terrible idea! What if there are Sharpedos in the water that you can't see? Or what if I fell off and lost which way was up and drowned? Or what if you suddenly decide to do one of those 'pranks' of yours and push me off the board? Or what if you're wrong and we're both too heavy for it?"

"You're not too heavy, I'd never push you off, and I'd never let you fall and drown," Brawly assured her. He held out his hand. "Come on, if you don't do this now, you may never."

The way he looked at her with an outstretched hand was almost identical to the look he'd given her earlier that day at school in the hallway. She saw so much sincerity in him that impulse overrode logical thought. "Fine, I'll do it, just tell me what to do." She sank down to the sand and pulled off her shoes. "I can't believe I'm going to do this..." she grumbled. He laughed and kicked off his own shoes next to hers, then ran out to the surf until it was up to his knees. She dutifully followed behind.

"Here, since it matters more if you get wet, straddle the board here and I'll push you out until its deep enough and get on." He pointed to the board and even though it teetered right and left and made Roxanne more than a little jumpy, she allowed him to maneuver her until they were far enough out for him to climb on the board behind her and turn them towards shore.

"Bring your legs up on the board and I'll get us started towards a wave. When I say so, stand up and balance your weight back on your right foot."

"Are you sure I should be standing already? This is my first time ever surfing, you know," Roxanne said. The water was dark and foreboding beneath her, and she was slightly cold. She was also terribly concerned about her clothes getting wet and making her parents question how they got that way the next morning. He leaned forward and put his lips to her ear and she shivered, but it wasn't because she was chilly.

"I told you already, I'm not letting you fall off this board. You're just going to have to trust me on this."

Strangely, she did.

He paddled them toward a wave heading for shore. Roxanne felt the board start to tip and she shut her eyes tightly, hoping against hope that he was right and that she wasn't about to fall into the bottomless depths below her. The next thing she knew, Brawly was getting up behind her.

"Your turn, Roxanne," he said. She stayed frozen for a moment longer, then slowly put her feet beneath her and began to rise. Her legs were shaking, both from nerves and the water suddenly rushing by beneath her.

"L-like this?" 

"Here, let me help." Brawly took her hand and gave it a soft tug and Roxanne came with it. He turned her in the right direction with his hands on her hips and left one hand there when his other swung out for balance. "Shift your weight around until you don't wobble so much and let me guide the board."

Roxanne's face was entirely flushed. His hand on her waist. _Her waist!_ No boy had ever touched her there! At least, not like that. Half of her wanted to command him to stop, to make him stop the board and let her off so she could go home and sleep. The other half wanted to just put her arms out, to close her eyes and lean back into him and pretend she was flying. But neither of these things happened, she ended up just standing there, completely tensed, with her arms held out to either side for balance.

"Roxanne, chill out!" Brawly guided the board gently over the small wave and they coasted up to shore. Without the rushing water, it tipped and tilted, causing Roxanne to lose her balance and fall back into Brawly, who fell into the water with a splash. She teetered one way, then the other, her arms swinging in wide circles. Somewhere through her panic of falling into the water, she heard him laughing hysterically at her expense. She didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, before she fell back into the water and joined him. It wasn't deep, it just reached her waist when she was sitting, but she came up gasping for breath and shivering. Whether it was from the sudden chill or anger, she didn't know.

"Look what you did to me!" she shouted. "I'm soaking wet! How am I going to explain this to my parents? What if they see me?" She held out her arms and glared at him. "What will they think when they realize my clothes are soaked full of _ocean_ water?"

Brawly averted his eyes for some reason, though it looked like it was taking all of his self-control to do so and not keep looking at her. "A more important question is what would they think if they saw you as a participant in a wet t-shirt contest?"

Roxanne looked down at herself, gave a little squeak, and quickly pulled her arms back in to herself and covered her chest as if there was nothing in the way at all. "This was all a big plan for this to happen, wasn't it? You planned out this entire thing just so you could see me, you pervert!"

"How was I supposed to know you would put on a white shirt?" Brawly put his hand up to shield his eyes for good measure. "Actually _use_ that brain of yours, Roxanne! I didn't _tell_ you to put one on, and I didn't _force_ you to go surfing with me! Listen, we'll run into the city, hit up the department store and I'll buy you something, and then you can go home and hang your shirt in the shower or something and throw it in the hamper later and your parents won't even know!"

"You're turning me into a delinquent," she muttered and she stomped out of the water. Which was much harder than it looked. "You've got me sneaking out, and now we're lying to my parents about all of this and going around to hide things from them!"

"We are not _lying_ to them!" he protested. "And we're sneaking around to save your sopping wet ass, Missy! Would you rather they found wet footprints leading to your room later and _found_ the wet clothes themselves and asked you about it? You can't lie to save your life, you'd never pass it off! If they think you had a normal night's sleep, they won't have anything to ask about and you won't have to fib. But if you would prefer, I can just take you home right now..."

"...No." She reached around and rang out her hair over the sand. Brawly, his board tucked under one arm, jerked his head in the direction of the lights off in the distance.

"Then let's get going."

One shopping montage later and another break back into her apartment, Roxanne was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling above her bed in a brand-new pair of blue shorts and a t-shirt proclaiming herself a "diva" with a sparkly gold crown on top of the "I." It was a shirt she'd never let her parents see, but she_ did_ decide that she would keep it. Because as uneasy as she felt about the entire night, about sneaking out of her house and meeting up with a boy at the beach and surfing with said boy and having him touch her waist and then falling into the water and having to go buy her clothes she'd never be caught dead in otherwise, she came to a startling realization.

Roxanne had had fun.

**A/N: Wet t-shirt obligation: Check.**


	3. Of Turtle Shells and Doilies

Brawly thought it best to avoid her throughout the actual day part of Saturday. Truth be told, he thought his excuse to her the night before had been a stretch, and he thought she would think it a load of BS and tell him to wait for actual daytime. But as far as surfing was concerned, it was his favorite, and surfing at night was the best. He had been sure she would love it.

Until, of course, she had fallen in the water and gotten her shirt wet. What he wouldn't have given to actually have sneaked a peek! But no, if he had done that, she would have called off the bet for sure. Which was too bad, because a red polka-dotted bra was really worth staring at, especially if it was hers.

All day Saturday he wished he could have gone over to her apartment and asked her to do something, but it was probably best to let her chill out and calm down. And he'd show her on Sunday that not _all_ the fun he had was rule-breaking and bad. Or, at least, in her case. _He_ didn't have a curfew, so he could be out as late as he wanted to. Granted, surfing at night _was_ dangerous, and his parents wouldn't really approve, but what they didn't know didn't hurt him, right?

So Saturday came and went. Brawly awoke earlier than usual on Sunday, much to his parents' surprise when they heard the shower going at nine-thirty instead of eleven, and even more to their surprise when he offered some excuse about a date before rushing out the door at the time he usually woke up.

Fifteen minutes of a bike ride later and Brawly was walking through the hallways of Roxanne's apartment building, wondering what on earth he was going to say to her parents when they opened the door. She didn't go on dates, and who knew if they would even let her? Maybe they were some of those protective parents that wouldn't allow her to date until a certain age. He gulped when a thought struck him. Maybe her dad was one of those guys who owned a shotgun and liked to threaten others with it when they got too close to his daughter.

It was too late to worry about it now, though. He stood outside her door, squared his shoulders, put on his most confident face, and knocked.

At first, there was no sound behind the door, and he hoped they hadn't gone out or anything. Then there were some muffled words exchanged, some shuffling, and a lady with pink hair in an apron answered the door. She looked at him curiously.

"May I help you?"

Brawly resisted a sigh of relief. Her mother didn't look that scary! "I'm Brawly, a boy in Roxanne's class at school. Is she around? We have plans for lunch today." He hadn't intentionally thrown that last bit in there, it slipped out on its own. But, he thought, it kept Roxanne from being able to weasel her way out of it, should she still be annoyed with him two nights ago.

"Yes, she is. Roxanne!" the lady called, and suddenly said girl came plodding into sight, in a pair of modest capri shorts and a plain red t-shirt.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"This Brawly boy is here to see you. He said you had plans for lunch." Roxanne froze when she heard his name, and gave him a tense look out of the corner of her eye. "When did you make plans for lunch?"

"On Friday, ma'am," Brawly supplied when Roxanne opened her mouth. She didn't want to lie to her parents, so he would do it for her. But just this once. "We were talking just before lunch and I asked her." Her mother raised an eyebrow at her daughter.

"Oh? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It, uh, must have slipped my mind," Roxanne supplied. She shot Brawly a look. "Especially because I even forgot about it myself. Give me a minute to brush my hair and we can go." She zipped off down the hallway and when she was gone, a few awkward moments passed before her mom said,

"Well, come in, then."

She ushered Brawly in and he blinked a couple times to make sure he was seeing things right. Were there _doilies_ on the furniture? On everything, it looked like! The back of the couch, the back of one chair in the corner, next to the TV, on the surfaces of couchside tables underneath picture frames, and even hanging on the wall! The only pieces of furniture void of the horrific frilly things were the kitchen table, the chairs seated around it, and one big easy chair with a plain view of the television, where he assumed Roxanne's dad sat when he was home.

Everything was tidy. Nothing was out of place. Blankets were folded in a basket by the couch, under an end table. Three magazines were fanned neatly on the surface of the coffee table, each the most recent issue of its title. The remote was placed neatly on top of them, and a braided rug lay beneath the table on the polished hardwood floor.

"You have a very clean apartment," he said at last. Roxanne's mom gave him a curious look.

"Thank you?"

"I mean, it's nice!" Brawly fumbled around with his words. "Clean isn't bad or anything! It looks nice! My apartment is so much messier, though! We have so much stuff and not enough room to put it all, and we just kind of toss the blankets anywhere, and we can't even find the Buttons half the time."

"Buttons?" Her eyebrows began pinching together, appearing to be slightly disapproving. He felt his stomach drop. Here he was, talking about how messy his family's apartment was, which was probably horrifying the lady who decorated her life with doilies.

"The remote control for the TV, I mean," he said quickly. "We've always called it the Buttons for as long as I can remember, though."

"I see," was all she said. She went back to doing something in the kitchen. Theirs was different from his, where the kitchen and living room were combined in one big room, and the only separating element was where the hardwood stopped and the linoleum began. The bleachest of whites a linoleum floor could possibly be, mind you. Brawly stood awkwardly just inside the closed doorway and had never been more relieved to see Roxanne in his entire life when she finally came out of the hallway, her hair pulled back into the usual two pigtails she always wore. He watched her pocket a few dollars before waving to her mom.

"I'm heading out, see you later for supper, Mom!"

"Enjoy yourself, Roxanne. Don't be home _too_ late." The lady didn't even turn around from whatever she was doing! Brawly stuck his tongue out at her behind her back – serves her right for collecting doilies anyway – and felt a huge sense of relief wash over him when the door shut and her apartment was behind them.

"We had lunch plans?" Roxanne asked. She sounded very annoyed. "You could have at least _told_ me about them, now my mom is going to ask a whole bunch of questions as soon as I get home! She'll want to know why a strange boy I've been complaining about all year is suddenly taking me on a date that isn't really a date at all and want to know where I've been and what we did and she's going to get suspicious!"

"You've been complaining about me all year?" was his only response. Her hands balled into fists, but she kept them down.

"I don't like you, remember?" she said. "That's what this whole thing is about for you anyway, to get me to like you. It isn't going to work, I'll always find you to be a thick-headed jock who cares more about impressing others than anything else."

He put a hand over his heart. "Ouch Roxanne, ouch. That really hurts." He raised one eyebrow at her as they started down the stairs to the first floor. "But at least _my_ apartment hasn't been invaded by doilies."

Roxanne turned pink. "My mom learned how to decorate from my grandmother, I think," she said. "And she's so hung up on cleanliness and neatness that she doesn't even allow her pokemon to be out of their balls in the house!"

"I guess it was a bad thing to tell her how disorganized my family is, then?"

"You did _what_?"

* * *

The place he'd picked out to eat at had been a quaint little diner that looked to be a popular little hangout for the rest of the kids in Rustburo as well as somewhere nice for adults, and it had just the right prices for Roxanne's wallet, seeing as this _wasn't_ a date and she was going to pay for herself. She did allow Brawly to pay for dessert, though: two slices of pecha berry pie, one for each of them. They didn't do a whole lot of talking as they ate, thankfully, because Roxanne could think of nothing to say! It almost seemed like she was nervous to talk to him now, because of how quickly he could retort to her and make her feel like an idiot.

"So? Was lunch as bad as you thought it would be?" he asked. She had loved it, of course, and was thinking about going back sometime in the future, despite the fact that her parents hated eating out and she had no friends she would go and do things with outside of school. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

"It was okay," she said at last. "Not as painful as I thought it would be. I thought it would be a greasy burger joint where kids like you go to hang out."

"In a sense, it kind of is, without the 'greasy' part," he said. "And, believe it or not, _most_ kids are like me, you're the abnormal bookworm one who doesn't know how to have fun."

"I do too know how to have fun!" she protested, placing her hands on her hips. He walked on without her, but laughed all the same.

"Roxanne, you wouldn't know fun if it ran up naked and pinched your nipples," he said. She ran to catch up with him.

"I'm going to ignore the vulgarity of that comment. What makes you think I don't know how to have fun? I can enjoy myself just as much as the next person!"

He began counting on his fingers. "First off, you live in a house without a single speck of dust. Ergo, you can't do anything active in your house without fear of ruining _something_. Next, you don't do anything outside of school with anybody. You've never been to that diner," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "and that's the post popular place to hang out in Rustburo. And you think writing essays and doing math problems is fun. I bet you've never played a video game before, either."

"Of course not. All you do is sit and watch a television screen. It rots your mind, and you just sit around and be lazy."

Brawly froze where he was walking. Roxanne kept going for a few more paces before she noticed Brawly had stopped. The look on his face was priceless. His mouth was slightly open, legs frozen in mid-stride, eyes staring off in the distance and slightly glazed over. Roxanne walked back to him and reached out to touch his shoulder. "Brawly? Are you oka – Ahh!"

He reached up, grabbed her wrist, and began dragging her down a different path, away from her apartment building, where they had been heading. She tried to push his hand off, tried to pull herself free, but he was having none of it. If anything, his stride grew more confident and purposeful.

"Video games are part of being a teenager," he explained. "For you to fully understand the life of a typical teenager, you must experience them. And lucky for you, I happen to have many."

"Brawly, let me go!" Roxanne protested. "It's Sunday, I have to be getting home and studying! We have school tomorrow!" She tried to push his hand off again, but it was in vain.

"You have plenty of time! And remember what I said? You're more than smart enough to go a weekend without looking over your notes a billion times. I'm willing to bet that you were doing just that when I came to pick you up, weren't you?"

Roxanne puffed out her cheeks and looked away. He made it sound like a bad thing to want to succeed!

"You need a break, and video games will do just fine. I even have the next _Call of Duty_! And I think you might take a certain liking to Zelda games."

One of the many tall apartment buildings suddenly stood before them now. Apparently, he lived a lot closer than she had anticipated. She had hardly enough time to take the building in, though, before she was pulled through the front doors and through a doorway that led to a stairwell.

"I don't see how _this_ is going to be any fun at all!" she protested. "Besides, your parents are going to be home and they'll be watching us and I've never met them before and my mom will flip out when she finds out was in the same "ratty" apartment as you, who is a huge packrat, apparently–"

"Roxanne, chill," he said, still dragging her along through the halls of the building. "My parents are _nothing_ like yours, they'll love you right off the bat. Unlike you, _I've_ only said good things about you to them."

Roxanne at least had the decency to blush when he said that. Suddenly, her wrist was freed and he was digging around in his pocket for his apartment key. She was free, she could run away if she wanted to. She could sprint down the hallway and escape. But then, she was nowhere near as athletic as Brawly, so her escape would be short-lived. And knowing Brawly, he would probably hoist her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes for the tip back once he caught her. But he worst part of it all was that he _knew_ that would happen, why else would he let her go, there of all places? His key found and inserted into lock, he turned to her.

"You ready to meet my folks?"

"Not rea–"

"I'm home!"

The jerk hadn't even given her enough time to answer before he opened the door and strode into the apartment. Roxanne timidly followed in behind him, taking in everything.

No, literally, it really _did_ look as if he had _everything_ in his house. Except doilies.

Nothing, it seemed, had a set place. Pictures hung on the wall that looked as if they were framed artwork by the masterful kindergarten-aged Brawly. Shoes littered the floor by the door, books and magazines and mail littered the coffee table, the end tables, and even the kitchen table, and pillows littered every available cushion she could see. The loveseat, couch, and easy chair in the living room actually looked as if they were _used_, complete with tiny frays around the stitching.

There was mess everywhere, but it was a comfy mess. Mess that showed that life actually _lived_ in the apartment, not just _existed_ in it.

"Hello, Brawly!" said a cheerful lady with hair the color of her son's. She wasn't thin like Roxanne's mother, but large, squat, with a big bosom and an even bigger badonk. She greeted her son with a hug before she noticed Roxanne. She turned to Brawly with a motherly-knowing glint in her eye.

"Brawly, who's your friend?" she asked. He nodded his head in Roxanne's direction.

"Her? She followed me home, can I keep her?"

Roxanne puffed out her cheeks as she held in a protest, but Brawly's mom tapped a finger to her chin in thought at her son's words. "Alright, I guess she can stay, but you have to feed her and walk her every day."

"Deal!"

Roxanne bit her lip and glanced around the apartment for a lack of a better place to look at. "I'm, uh, Roxanne, it's a pleasure to, uh, meet you–"

The lady cut her off when she bypassed the hand Roxanne had held out to shake with and crushed Roxanne to her with surprising force in what Roxanne was positive was the most powerful hug she'd ever been part of. All the words (and breath) were squeezed right out of her.

Oh, Dear, of course I know who you are! My son can't stop talking about you, you know. Oh, but I'm _so _glad you're giving him a chance, he really isn't as bad as you think." She put her arm around her son, who was a good foot taller than her. "Although, he could stand to be a little cleaner once in a while…"

"Mo-om!" He pushed her arm away, his face tinting pink. "I do _not _talk about you all the time, I swear! And I'm clean enough, thank you very much!"

His mom laughed again and patted Brawly's shoulder. "Oh, of course, Sweetie, I'm sorry." She spared a wink at Roxanne that she knew Brawly couldn't have missed. "Anyway, I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

When she had bustled off far enough, Roxanne turned to Brawly. "You talk about me all the time, do you?" She looked annoyed, but his reaction amused her to no end. On one side, Roxanne thought it was incredibly creepy he would talk about her so often, especially to his family, none of whom had ever met her before. On the other hand, she found it kind of sweet…

"I promise it isn't what you think!" he hissed. "It's not like I'm gushing about you twenty four-seven! I just _happen_ to mention you once or twice in conversation when they ask about my day!" He grabbed her wrist again, though, swapping subjects before she could blink. "But enough talk, you and I are going to play video games now."

He dragged her over to the couch, Sat her down, tossed her a controller, and went over to the TV to plug everything in. She looked at the controller suspiciously. Weren't there supposed to be just three buttons or something? A, B, and a control pad! But she only knew that because when she was very little, she had a Gameboy. That was the extent of her video game knowledge.

"Alright, I figured we would start easy," Brawly said. "It's a racing game, those are simple. You use the control stick to move," Roxanne wiggled the little stick a couple times to see what it felt like, "and you use the blue button to go. Oh, and you use this button up here," Brawly moved her finger so it rested on yet _another_ button Roxanne hadn't known existed, "to use your items slow people down so you can get to first place."

She wasn't sure what he meant, but She figured she would learn fast enough. She selected her character, (some blonde girl in a pink dress named after a fruit), and Brawly picked some green… thing with a big nose and a saddle on its back. It looked like a dinosaur, if dinosaurs were made out of marshmallows and happiness.

Roxanne felt her palms start to sweat when he picked a race track, and she felt like the controller would fly out of her hands like a bar of soap if she held on too tight. Some music played, and a floating thing holding a traffic light hovered down in front of her half of the screen. It counted down, then turned green. Roxanne looked down, located the blue button for go, and pressed it. When she looked back up, She was the only one still behind the starting line.

"Hey! Where did everybody go?"

"They all left! You have to press the button as soon as the light turns green, or else you get left behind," he said. She glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

"But that's not fair!"

He glanced at her, smirked, and tossed a green shell behind him, which she promptly ran headfirst into. Roxanne resisted the urge to swear profusely.

"That's Mario Kart."

**A/N: Just wait until you see what she does when she gets hit with a **_**blue**_** shell.**


	4. A Startling Revelation

On Monday, Brawly was leaning against the side of the building and talking with one of his friends when he saw her arrive. After seeing her in normal clothes all weekend, watching her skirt swish around her legs didn't seem usual for her, and his eyes drew instantly there. Thankfully, she was too far away yet to notice him staring, but the guy he was standing with rolled his eyes.

"Are you still after Roxanne?" He nudged Brawly's shoulder with his elbow. "Dude, you've been unsuccessful for ages with her. Just give it up already, you could have any other girl in this school if you wanted!"

"And I want _her_," he said simply. "See you in class!" And Brawly pushed himself off the wall and ran to greet her. She set her jaw as he came closer, but didn't push him away. "Hey Roxanne, what's up?"

"Sleeping didn't happen as smoothly as I wanted it to," she said around a yawn. "My mom never stopped asking me questions about you all throughout dinner, and I spent a good portion of the evening into the night researching techniques to win at that stupid game of yours." She hauled her feet up the steps into the school. Brawly put a hand on her back to help her balance, but laughed until she glared at him. "What's so funny?"

"Mario Kart isn't something you can research and be good at, Roxanne!" he said. "You have _a lot_ to learn about the real world!"

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?"

"Roxanne, you can't just _expect_ to be good at something as soon as you research about it, life doesn't always work like school does! For example," He stopped in the hallway, dug around in his backpack for a moment, and pulled out a book on football. He flipped through a few pages, then handed the book to her. "This right here tells you about how to pass, right?"

"Right."

"So, read that for a moment, then when you're done, hand it back to me."

Roxanne leaned against the lockers for a minute, reading over the page, then handed it over to Brawly once more. "Okay, I'm done."

"Now, do you think you could play with the team today during lunch and pass perfectly?"

"No! No, of course not, I don't know how to play football!" Roxanne shook her head at him. "That's a stupid question, I'd need to pra–" She cut herself off suddenly and narrowed her eyes at Brawly, who was giving her some sort of smug smirk.

"You'd need to what?" He nudged her with his elbow, which she promptly batted away. "Come on, what were you going to say?" She huffed and ignored the pink creeping up in her cheeks.

"I'd need to practice," she said through pursed lips. "Alright, I get it, you're right. Now, leave me alone, class starts in a few minutes." She pushed her way past him and turned left into the classroom, but he wouldn't be pushed away so easily. He followed her in and took the seat right behind her usual one, ignoring the boy who was about to sit down there. Brawly shooed him off to go take his own assigned seat. Roxanne pretended not to notice.

"You know, if you really want to, I can let you borrow the system and the game for the week so you can practice. I've had it for like, my whole life. I can show you how to plug it in and start it and stuff, and then you can have all week to study up on those," he stifled a snicker, "techniques you studied last night."

Roxanne paused in thought. Brawly leaned forward until his mouth was almost pressed against his ear. "We can have a rematch on Friday, and I probably won't even get a chance to practice myself unless you let me into your house to try, and I don't know if I would because I don't feel like drowning in doilies. How about that?"

He noticed the shiver that ran down her spine as he talked, but he took it as a good sign, and her longer, more thoughtful pause as an even better one. Finally, she turned to face him ever so slightly.

"Fine," she muttered as the stragglers hurried in as their teacher was about to start a lesson on the effects of poisoning and how one could tell if their pokemon was poisoned or not. "But only if it gets you to shut up while the teacher is talking, I don't need any more distractions now that you're sitting behind me, thank you very much!" With some sort of finality, she turned to face the board with her pencil poised for note-taking, leaving Brawly with a smirk on his face.

* * *

The longer the teacher talked, the more Roxanne had trouble paying attention. She kept glancing at the clock, something she very rarely did. An hour until lunch time, then half an hour, then twenty minutes…Time seemed to be slowing exponentially.

It wasn't as if she were in a _hurry_ to go hang out with Brawly again! No doubt he would make lunch miserable for her as well, like he had every other time that weekend. He'd probably even leave her to go play football with his buddies. Or, worse, he might make her play _with_ them!

She snapped herself back out of her thoughts for the nth time when she realized she was getting behind in taking notes. She wrote down some line about one of the symptoms of a poisoned pokemon, then glanced at the clock again. It hadn't moved. Was it broken? She checked her watch. The same thing, only a minute or so had passed! Well then, the only logical conclusion was that every clock in the building was experiencing some sort of breakdown.

She paused, made a face at herself, and shook her head. She was thinking ridiculously; she was thinking like Brawly! She was just being impatient about the time, and she needed to relax and keep taking her notes like she always had before, and before she knew it, it would be lunch time.

But taking notes wasn't as fun as she'd remembered them to be…

Not nearly as fun as Mario Kart. Or surfing at night. Or eating lunch in a popular little diner.

She tried to write down something else the teacher said, but when she looked down at the paper, it was some obscure combination of words that would take her longer to decipher than it would to read the rest of her notes put together. She gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists. She had been right, Brawly was nothing but trouble, and this only proved it! Her schoolwork was slipping! How was she supposed to know the difference between a poisoned pokemon and a burned pokemon _now_?

The words _I hate you, Brawly_ suddenly appeared, written under her incomprehensible line. Awesome. She couldn't take notes, but anything concerning _Brawly_ was perfectly legible! Roxanne was surprised that the pencil in her hand hadn't snapped in half by now. She checked the clock.

Ten more minutes.

Brawly watched Roxanne, and even without seeing her face, he knew something was bothering her. She was tense, her shoulders were shaking, and her pencil only stopped to write a few lines at a time before she'd stop and become lost in thought again. Then she'd snap out of it, return to her tense shoulders, and it would start all over again. He nearly laughed aloud as soon as the teacher announced lunch and she almost knocked her desk over when she stood up so fast, but decided against it. If she was that tense sitting down and taking notes (where she was totally in her element), she might knock his head off now.

"Are you ready for lunch?" he asked. She lifted up her desk and pulled out a brown paper sack, one identical to his.

"I've never been more ready in my life," she replied. And, much to his surprise, _she_ led the way out of the classroom and down the hall toward the lunch room. At the last minute, though, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the double doors leading out the side of the building. She protested, but had no chance of winning as he dragged her across the grass to sit beneath a big tree next to the football field on the school grounds.

"I'd like to eat out here. It's a nice day, after all," he said. She protested again, but he shushed her with one pointer finger over her mouth. "Ah ah, remember our bet?" She glared at him, but plopped herself down on the grass next to him and leaned against the tree.

"I'm going to get bug bites or something," she grumbled, but pulled out her lunch. Yogurt, a bag of carrots, and an apple. Brawly looked at her lunch with disgust.

"_That's_ what you're eating?" He pretended to gag. "That's _buneary_ food! Where's your candy? Your granola bar? Your peanut butter and jelly?" Before she could take a bite, he grabbed the yogurt and the contents of her lunch bag out of her lap and replaced it with his. Her hands, still frozen in place as if she were holding a cup of yogurt, clenched into fists.

"Excuse you?"

"There, take my lunch and learn from it," he said simply. She gave him a withering look before opening his lunch bag and peering inside. She pulled out a sandwich with excess peanut butter and jelly squishing out the edges.

"What _is_ this?"

"The staple food of every school lunch ever," he replied. "The Peanut Butter and Jelly. Jelly may be substituted with bananas, marshmallow fluff, pretzels, or apple butter." He wiped a little of what was squishing out the sides on one finger and stuck it in his mouth. "Technica-y, ish on-y pe-ut bu-ah das –a sh-aple –ood, I –ess."

"This isn't healthy in any way," she muttered, holding the sticky mess out with two fingers. "I don't even think we _own_ any jelly." She pulled out the next item in the bag – a pudding cup, in chocolate. She shot him a sidelong glance.

"That's pudding," he said. "It's only a semi-staple. It's small, easy to pack, and also a sweet little treat. And chocolate is the best flavor."

"I know what pudding is," she snapped. "But no, chocolate is _not_ the best flavor, that would be tapioca."

"You sound like my mom!" He wrinkled his nose and shook his head like a dog that had been swatted. "But whatever. Last, but not least–!" he reached into the bag and pulled out a small sandwich bag filled with little black cookies with white filling between them, "Dessert! Today's special – Oreos!"

Roxanne looked back and forth between the pudding in one hand and the Oreos in Brawly's, then up at him. "You have two desserts."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do. Pudding and Oreos." She grabbed the cookies from him and held both up for him to see. " How can only one of them be dessert?"

"It just can, shut up," he mumbled. "I swapped lunches with you and got the worse end of the deal, so stop complaining and eat your lunch!"

"Yes, Mom," she said with a roll of her eyes. He didn't do anything with her food, though, just watched her take a bite out of his sandwich. When she glanced over at him with a stare that said "What are you doing?" he said, "So? How is it?"

"…It's not bad," she said at last. "Pretty sticky, but not bad."

"Good, good, now try the pudding and Oreos!"

"I've had pudding and Oreos before, Brawly," she said as if she were talking to a little kid. "Just not in a school lunch. It's not healthy. How are you not overweight?"

"Fast metabolism," he said. "Plus, I usually play some football when I'm done eating." He jerked a thumb towards the football field to his left, where a few boys were already gathering around the center of the field and kicking the ball back and forth, waiting for some more players.

"You can go join them," she said after she swallowed another bite of peanut butter. "I'm not done eating, and I doubt you'll be eating my lunch anytime soon." He waved a hand posh-style at her, as if she ought to have known that, silly her.

"Nah, one new step at a time, Roxanne," he said. "Today is lunch, I'll save football for another day."

She wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but she got the feeling that she wasn't going to like finding out, either.

**A/N: Oreos crunched up **_**in**_** chocolate pudding is even better, though.  
Also, thank you to all of my reviewers who reminded me that I'm still working on this story! Minor slip-up between the first chapter and a small plot point from here on, but if you don't catch it, I won't say it. Either way, I'll go change it in the first chapter when I have the time.**


	5. Jelly is a Fruit

"Hey Mom, can we get some jelly and pudding cups?"

The light clatter of silverware on china stopped momentarily. Roxanne had known for long enough that when her mother paused like that, she wasn't going to be very agreeable.

"Jelly and pudding cups?"

"Yeah. Brawly and I ate lunch together today, and he had pudding cups and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and it looked pretty good. I'd like to try it." She pushed her peas around on her plate with her fork. "You know, have something in there that most kids have."

"It isn't healthy," her mother said. "Pudding is a dessert for special occasions, and jelly is just too messy. Since when have you ever cared about being like the other kids? You're a bright girl, you're above them." She went back to cutting demure little pieces off her pork chop as if that settled the matter.

"Now now, it's natural for a girl her age to be feeling a little left out when people are all eating these things and she doesn't get to," her father spoke up from the other end of the table. "After all, kids just can't eat carrots all their life, can they?"

"They can and they should. Carrots are good for her brain development. She wouldn't be as smart as she is if we had fed her cookies and snacks like other parents," she said tartly. Roxanne rolled her eyes with her head ducked. She felt more like a trophy to her mother sometimes than a daughter. "No pudding, that is that."

"How about some jelly, then?" Roxanne piped up. Again, the light clatter of silverware stopped. "Bread is a grain, and peanut butter is good for you. Jelly could be like…a fruit, maybe?" She felt like she was hanging by a thread, but at least she would try.

"I think it sounds like a fine idea," her father said. "It seems healthy enough. Besides, our daughter is already the top in her class, isn't she? A peanut butter and jelly sandwich isn't going to do much to her." Her mother gave him a look behind her glasses of reproachful disapproval, but she sighed and turned to her daughter with pursed lips.

"Alright. I'll get some _jelly_ when I'm out tomorrow," she said. The way she said _jelly_ seemed to add "that disgusting creature" to the end of her sentence. Roxanne didn't care, she was just glad she had managed to come out on top in this one. She would have to thank her dad later. She stood up and excused herself from the table, emptied her plate into the sink, and went to her room. From her backpack, she withdrew the Nintendo 64 she had borrowed from Brawly after school. She was determined to beat him at that stupid game, even if it killed her. Roxanne walked back out into the living room and began hooking it up to the TV the way he had taught her.

"Roxanne? I thought you were doing homework," her mother called from the kitchen. Her dad, hidden behind his newspaper, didn't say anything.

"I'll do it later, I already know it all anyway," she called back. "I'm playing this game that Brawly leant me."

She could almost feel the withering gaze her mother sent her way, but chose to ignore it. She didn't approve of too many things, aside from studying and schoolwork, so Roxanne decided it was best not to worry about it. Her father seemed not to have any qualms about it, anyway.

She plugged the console in, turned on the game, and began practicing.

* * *

"No way."

"Why not?"

"Absolutely no way! You've seen me running before! It's absolutely terrible! I have no athletic ability at all, and I'm in a _skirt_!"

"I don't see any problem with that," Brawly said. Roxanne cuffed him on the shoulder for his efforts. "Seriously though, Roxanne. It's just one stupid game of football over lunch. It's not like it's the World Cup or anything!" He nudged the spherical black and white ball towards her with his foot. She raised an eyebrow at it, then looked back at him, her eyebrow still quirked.

"Brawly, she doesn't want to play, just leave her alone," one of the other boys said to him from across the center circle. "Don't make her do anything she doesn't want to." His taking her side had less to do with her feelings and more to do with that fact that she was Roxanne, the book-smart little perfect girl who seemed to snub other classmates who annoyed her, which was almost everyone. The one nobody wanted to be paired with for group projects because she would take over and leave them with nothing.

"You're going to play, because I said so, and you agreed to it. Last Friday, remember?" He nudged her with his elbow, and she swiped at it, but stopped arguing. All the boys standing around groaned.

"Brawly, she doesn't want to play!"

"Yes, she does."

"No, I don't."

He ignored the protests coming from both parties and circled Roxanne a few times, his chin in his hand. After a few circled without saying anything, she huffed and folded her arms.

"Have you decided what position I'm playing yet?" He nodded.

"I decided a while ago, I was just admiring you right now," he said smugly. She hit him again while the other boys hid smirks and chuckles behind their hands

"Dude, come on. This is _Roxanne_ we're talking about. She's all book-smart and athletic and no fun at all!" said one guy. The others nodded in agreement. Brawly gritted his teeth.

"But she's going to play with us anyway," he said. They all groaned in unison, and something in him snapped. He pushed his sleeves back and rounded on the guy nearest him. "Listen!" he barked, "We are _all_ friends here. Even if _you_ aren't friends with her, _I_ am, and I expect you to treat her the same way you treat all the other guys on this field and not like idiots and jerks. Understand?" He turned to look at all the other boys, and considered their silence a sealed deal. "Good, that's what I thought."

To Roxanne's surprise, each of the boys had the decency to look ashamed. Even more to her surprise, Brawly had stood up for her in front of all of them. Of all the things he had done, that had been the one she had least expected him to do! She figured he would have just gone along with it in that aloof way he usually did, which did nothing to solve the problem.

Her stomach flopped over a few times. She ordered it to stop. Now was not the time to be thinking such things.

"Anyway, Roxanne," He turned back to her as if he'd not just preformed a monumental act, "You'll play goalie, because you kind of suck at running." She was opening her mouth to protest when he interrupted her with "Don't deny it, you know it's true." She shut her mouth after that.

"Your job is to keep the ball from going in the goal," he said. "You can do it however you want to, and you can even use your hands, which the rest of us can't do."

"This is such a stupid game," she muttered, and began making her way to one end of the field.

"Roxanne!"

She rounded on him. "What now?"

"Our net is that way," he said with a point in the opposite direction. She did her best to look dignified as she ignored the snickers from everyone and took her place in the center of the goal. Some other boy took her same position in the other net, the rest of them congregated together in the middle, and suddenly it was a hustle of quick-moving legs and boys running back and forth. Roxanne didn't think they were getting anywhere! As soon as the ball started heading her way, it automatically got intercepted by someone else. How did they know who was on what team again?

Her mind began to wander. What would she be doing right now if she hadn't agreed to this silly thing? She glanced over to where there were a few picnic tables situated on a concrete slab. She would be sitting at one of those with her schoolbook propped open, studying over and over again for the next test or quiz they would be having. And she would be –

"Look out!"

She was snapped back to her thoughts by Brawly's yell, and she saw a black and white ball soaring through the air directly at her. With a small yelp, she instinctively brought both her forearms up in front of her face to protect it. The ball collided with her arms with a resounding _SMACK!_ That had all the boys groaning and left Roxanne with a stinging sensation that hurt like a sunnovabitch, but at least it hadn't been her face. She immediately dropped her arms down and grabbed at the spot the ball had hit, hissing in pain, but Brawly was the only one who seemed to be in good spirits.

"You did it! You blocked it!" He ran over and completely disregarded her sudden forearm pain with a hearty slap on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

"It was just a fluke," said one guy with an eyeroll Roxanne didn't like. "She didn't even have to move, the ball came to _her_. Just wait until she has to make a _real_ save."

A few of the boys on his team nodded in agreement, but the boys on Brawly's team, which was also Roxanne's, waved their hands and called him a sore loser. She felt something well up inside her and she stomped out of the goal and over to the boy who had spoken first.

"Yeah, just wait until I have to make a _real_ save," she said. "Then we'll see who really sucks at this game." The boys all went up in a chorus of "Oohhh!"s, but she sauntered on back to her goal without another glance backwards.

The game started again. This time, Roxanne didn't let her mind wander. Whoever that kid was, he was about to be proven wrong. Half of Roxanne's good grades through the years had been due to studying, but a large portion of it was due to her being too damn stubborn to allow herself to be surpassed by the next-smartest kid.

Brawly kept glancing back at her throughout the game. She wasn't staring off idly this time, but standing with her shoulders squared and her feet shoulder-width apart. She had a determined look on her face. Unfortunately, one of the other boys took Brawly's distraction as an opportunity and kicked the ball around him and headed for the goal. He muttered a swear and took off after the kid, despite his head start. Roxanne talked a big game, but if she'd never done it before, being a goalie would be a lot harder than it sounded.

He wasn't going to make it, the kid with the ball was small and quick. Roxanne seemed ready, though. She bent her knees, coiled like springs, and stuck her tongue out in concentration. The boy kicked. The ball sailed.

He wasn't exactly sure how Roxanne reacted so fast when he himself wouldn't have had time to save the net from the ball, especially compared to how close they were already to the goal. One moment the ball and Roxanne were on the ground. The next, she had jumped, arms above her head, and stopped the ball with both hands, then pushed it out and away from the goal, causing the ball to collide with the head of the boy who had challenged her save earlier. He wasn't sure if even _she_ knew it was on purpose, but she landed, sauntered over anyway, and stood right in front of him as he nursed his forehead.

"How was _that_ for a real save?" she asked him. He gave her a look she didn't see because she was sauntering back to the net as if she did that sort of thing all the time.

**A/N: I was planning on making the version of football ambiguous, but one thing led to another and then I didn't.**


End file.
